Delius - The Magic Fountain (Wexford, 2025)

Frederick Delius - The Magic Fountain

Wexford Festival Opera, 2025

Francesco Cilluffo, Christopher Luscombe, Dominick Chenes, Axelle Saint-Cirel, Kamohelo Tsotetsi, Meilir Jones, Seamus Brady

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 23rd October 2025

After a previous year of operas dedicated to humour and triviality, this year's Wexford Festival Opera programme suitably went for a wider balance that took in 18th, 19th and an almost 20th century opera, but covered many other centuries and millennia in the period settings of those works. There was also a measure of lightness of touch in the treatment of the overall theme of Myths & Legends, but there was a rather more solemn and reverential tone evident in Delius’s The Magic Fountain. That was clearly suggested by the spiritual awakening message of the work itself, and it consequently received a similarly respectful treatment by the director Christopher Luscombe and conductor Francesco Cilluffo. It's an approach that suits the opera and its post-Wagnerian atmosphere, evoking Tristan und Isolde in its quest for the eternal, but it couldn't help but feel a little dry and ponderous at the same time.

The opera even opens with a kind of Flying Dutchman legend in reverse. In the 16th century, aboard a ship crossing the Atlantic, Don Juan Solano dreams of finding the mythical fountain of youth and the possibility of living forever. His ship however is stuck somewhere off the coast of Florida, to the consternation of the crew. When a sudden storm dutifully casts him ashore, destroying his ship and crew in the process, it is not an adoring 'Senta' Solano meets, but a young native woman called Watawa, who does not welcome this foreign intruder. Most white men come to their lands to pillage, destroying everything in their search for gold. Watawa expects no different from Solano and his quest for the magical fountain.

But in some ways, the white man is indeed expecting it to come easy for him and have it handed to him on a plate. The tribal seer Talum Hadjo warns him however that he hasn't put in the hours of contemplation, preparation and understanding of what it means to live eternal youth, and that his goal will elude him. There is a message here about respect and veneration for those who are seen as being 'closer to nature', but there is good reason to think so and much truth in that sentiment. Those who have lived destroying and fighting nature would not have the maturity or understanding of those who have passed down knowledge from generations, respecting the power of nature, using it to their benefit without exploiting it.

The dream of finding a more closer spiritual way of living is one that appealed to Delius. Sent to Florida on his father's business managing an orange plantation in 1884, the nascent composer instead used the experience to soak up the musicality of the spirituals of the African-American slave workers, the sounds and the people of the land, as well as reportedly enjoying the favours of the local native girls. The experience clearly marked him deeply and his own quest to express those discoveries in his music led to a totally unique approach and distinctive musical expression. In The Magic Fountain there is a sense of momentarily glimpsing a sense of truth and enlightenment and constantly searching to regain it, but it remains as elusive as trying to regain innocence.

That sensibility is indeed revered in the music and the story, so it's unsurprising that the stage direction and musical production seek to adhere as closely as it can to the original intentions of the work and let it express it own truths. There's no attempt to make what is abstract and symbolic real or realistic, but rather through the music seeking to express or touch on the possibility of deeper enlightenment, a pure love, of the value of striving for an unattainable ideal. On a simple level there are only a small number of roles and no elaborate need for reinterpretation. The music is the key to the work and all the work is done there in the Wexford production under the baton of Francesco Cilluffo. There is little that is conventional in the orchestration, yet - as if indeed the composer has found a truer form of expression - little that is complicated either. The music buoys you along, sweeping, fluttering, imitating or evoking the sounds of earth, of nature, of an inner spiritual character or of a yearning to reach it.

Simon Higlett's set designs likewise kept it simple in line with director Christopher Luscombe's sober direction, not trying to overstate or overawe while the opera itself and its music remained understated. The production is at its most elaborate on the early scene on the ship, but once in Florida everything is stripped back to bold imagery of fronds, lights, stars and moonlight, with only the scene of Solano's meeting with the seer Talum Hadjo and a sequence native girls dancing presenting more elaborate scenes, neither of them entirely escaping an air of stereotypical imagery. The magical fountain of youth, when discovered, is also a little disappointing, looking like a tilted paddling pool with strands of glittering tinsel above it. On the other hand, it served the purpose of it being something symbolic, not representative of a physical place but an ideal where Solano and Watawa reach a mutual understanding, one however that cannot be achieved on any earthly plane. That ship (or plane) has long since sailed.

Composed between 1893-95, like many of Frederick Delius's works until championed by Thomas Beecham, The Magic Fountain was not fully staged until almost one hundred years later. As an opera, while it appears to aspire to the heights of Tristan und Isolde, it nonetheless achieves its own kind of spiritual awakening or integrity by finding a balance between the earthly paradise and a spiritual one in its music and voices. The voices have a freedom to give expression of what they are looking for, without being tied to any high-flown ideals or compositional technicalities, finding their voice rather in the sense the harmony in and with the music. The two lead roles were taken well by Dominick Chenes and Axelle Saint Cirel with bass Kamohelo Tsotetsi as Wataka's father Wapanacki, grounding the proceedings with a more earthy sensibility and gravity.

There is no question that The Magic Fountain is a very distinctive work and one from a composer largely and unjustly neglected, an absolute treat for those seeking out rare operas worthy of greater recognition. Wexford Festival Opera certainly handled this one with the respect it deserved, but there was a feeling that it was maybe too sombre and respectful in its 16th century setting and lacked a meaningful context for the conflicts of cultural and ideological difference that Solano seeks to resolve. Whether it's the work itself that doesn't quite meet the elevated expectations it sets out for itself - as beautiful and enchanting as it is - or whether the production could have benefitted from a little more adventurous interpretation is open to question, but it was a wonderful opera to experience on the National Opera House stage nonetheless.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, Wexford Festival Opera Streaming on RTE Lyric FM

Zemlinsky - Der Zwerg (Wexford, 2025)

Alexander von Zemlinsky - Der Zwerg 

Wexford Festival Opera, 2025

Christopher Knopp, Chris Moran, Charne Rochford, Eleri Gwilym, Charlotte Baker, Ross Cumming, Victoria Harley, Olivia Carrell, Erin Fflur, Cerys Macallister, Heather Sammon, Eleanor O'Driscoll, Camilla Seale

Jerome Hynes Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 23rd October 2025

Strangely, Alexander von Zemlinsky seems to have been one of those early 20th century opera composers who have slipped into obscurity and have yet to gain a true foothold or recognition for their work. That of course was the fate of many German and Austrian composers around the first half of the 20th century, partly through the rapidly evolving changes in music, of which Zemlinsky played an not unacknowledged role, but like many of his contemporaries who fell out of favour with the political establishment, it was mostly due to him being Jewish. Of all Zemlinsky's works Der Zwerg (The Dwarf) appears to be the representative work that he is known for, and in some ways it's a suitable work that defines to a larger extent his character and reputation.

While many of the composers and works deemed Entartete (degenerate) by the Nazis have enjoyed some manner of reappraisal in recent decades, Zemlinsky and Der Zwerg remain largely unknown and rarely performed. It's a work however that fits in perfectly with the new ideals and ideas - both musical and philosophical - that were floating around at the time, particularly in Vienna. Richard Strauss issued in that break with tradition with Salome, but many other works by Schreker, Braunfels and Korngold all explore the darker side of human psychology, a loss of innocence and a recognition of the ugliness and brutality that lies within humanity. Such works are often seen as a sign of the times and somewhat premonitory of the direction of the political climate, albeit dressed up in lush orchestration and extravagantly decadent plots.

The most celebrated and emblematic opera of this period is indeed Richard Strauss's Salome. Based on the play by Oscar Wilde, the Irish-British playwright would prove to be an outspoken figure in giving voice to dark hypocrisy and the depths of depravity in respectable society that were waiting to be given licence to be brought to the surface. Zemlinsky was also drawn to Wilde’s dark fairy tales, composing the short one-act opera Der Zwerg based on The Birthday of the Infanta, to be presented alongside another Wilde work Eine florentinische Tragödie (A Florentine Tragedy). As well as being an expression of those ideas about the ugly side of human nature, Der Zwerg is in some respects also filled with a sense of self-loathing felt by Zemlinsky as someone who didn't fit in with the Germanic ideal, either racially or physically.

The story is about a dwarf who is introduced into the court of the Infanta (an image inspired by Goya’s famous painting) as one of her courtiers. The dwarf however is unaware of how others see him, as he has never seen his reflection in a mirror (other than glimpses of a monster tormenting him in the flash of a blade). Having never seen himself as he is and how he looks, he considers himself a grand heroic figure. He is laughed at and ridiculed by the court, but the Infanta sees him as a plaything, indulging his delusions until he falls in love with her, only for the princess to then cruelly reveal the truth to him. The dwarf dies of a broken heart, clutching the white rose that the Infanta gave to him, but no one really feels any pity for the fool.

The history of the work and the period in which it was composed, 1922, are intriguing, inviting those interested to see in it something of Zemlinsky being rejected by Alma Schlinder, who described him as "a hideous dwarf" and then go on to marry Gustav Mahler. Zemlinsky initially asked Franz Schreker to set The Birthday of the Infanta, for which he would write the libretto (Schreker having already created a dance-pantomime Der Geburtstag der Infantin), but this developed into the similarly themed opera Die Gezeichneten with a libretto written wholly by Schreker himself. What is also interesting is that similar themes about the changing society and its troubling elements were also being explored in another art form, the German Expressionist cinema of Robert Weine's Dr. Caligari (1920) and Fritz Lang's Dr. Mabuse, der Spieler (1922), and that is the direction that director Chris Moran chooses to illustrate this production for Wexford Festival Opera as part of their 'Pocket Opera' programme.

It's a style that works exceptionally well with the nature of the work. Lavishly orchestrated, the story of Der Zwerg has a similar florid quality to Salome without Wilde's Symbolist trappings in that work, the dark fairy tale rather suiting the absurdist Gothic tone adopted here. The production even included flickering silent cinema intertitles, showing the shadow of a Max Schreck Nosferatu-like figure in shadows on the wall to reflect the idea of horror and deformity rather than dwarfism. The court are monstrously panstick painted with heavy black eye makeup and dark lipstick. As with Wilde's story it's all heightened and mannered, matching the sometimes jagged rhythms of Zemlinsky's score performed here in piano reduction by musical director Christopher Knopp.

As with any reduced score production there is no place to hide here and the singers all proved to be more than capable of delivering the intensity of the work, despite the lack of its grand orchestration. Charne Rochford in particular put across the intensity and depth of the dwarf's heroic delusion and fervent love for the Infanta. Eleri Gwilym's Infanta was perfectly characterised and sung, disdainful, detached and self-absorbed but not to the extent that she can't take time to dispense some wilful cruelty to those around her. Charlotte Baker as her attendant Ghita also came across very well as did Ross Cumming as the Chamberlain-storyteller.

There didn't appear to be any attempt to draw any political or personal message out of the work, but Der Zwerg - much like Salome - has its own inner power and horror and works perfectly on its own terms as a strong piece of opera. There is limited opportunity for any ambitious messaging anyway in a reduced small scale production (certainly not the kind of resources seen in the spectacle of Deidamia on the National Opera House main stage the previous night), but yet again, as she demonstrated also with the Pocket Opera production of La tragédie de Carmen in this year's festival, Lisa Krügel's effective set and costume designs were outstanding.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera

Handel - Deidamia (Wexford, 2025)

George Frideric Handel - Deidamia 

Wexford Festival Opera, 2025

George Petrou, Sophie Junker, Sarah Gilford, Bruno de Sá, Nicolò Balducci, Rory Musgrave, Petros Magoulas

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 22nd October 2025

For a festival that specialises in rare opera, it's not unknown for the occasional 18th century baroque and opera seria works to be performed at the Wexford Festival Opera, although to do so authentically usually requires a specialised early music orchestra or ensemble. Since the theme of this year's festival however is build around Myths and Legends - a mainstay of early opera - opera seria is the place to find plenty of great rarely performed operas, of which Handel's 1741 Deidamia is definitely a rarity. The composer's final opera before he turned his attention in later years to oratorio, it's perhaps not so great when measured alongside his next work Messiah, also in 1741, but all Handel's operas are worth exploring. If there was a brief from the Wexford Festival's artistic director that the focus of each of the operas should be on the human element to make the legend relevant to real people today, director George Petrou seems to have taken that brief literally.

Dealing with an obscure incident in Homer's Odyssey, where Odysseus travels to the island of Skyros searching for Achilles who is needed for the upcoming battle in Troy, it does seem a little bit strange just to overlay the Greek legend with some modern day tourists walking around the same Greek island taking selfies in the background, complete with projections of Wish You Were Here postcards. You would think the serious music of Handel wouldn't be able to sustain these two separate narratives, but by making some of the modern day travellers concerns similar to those of the ancient Greeks, it does succeed in making it a little more relevant, or at least sparks a little more interest. It's a good strategy since, taken on its own terms, Handel can often appear to be a bit dry, when - as David Alden recognised in the Dutch National Opera production of this work - there is actually quite a measure of humour built into the story and the music.

As both stage director and conductor, George Petrou is clearly aware of this and this concept consequently works very well, with both ancient and modern given equal attention. The little dramas of a bunch of privileged luxury tour holiday makers are perhaps not quite equal in importance (you might think), but Petrou strikes a balance where one gives equal emotional and meaningful weight to the other. The focus is of course on what is being sung and played out by the main figures in the ancient Greek drama, but essentially the concept emphasises the fact that the same concerns remain for all of us in the present day. Not that anyone today would start a catastrophic war with a nation over someone stealing their first lady. Or at least you would hope not, but you couldn't even count on that security in today's world.

If that were all that there was to it, presenting a necessary modern perspective on an ancient legend, it would be a valid approach, but Petrou doesn't settle for such simple parallels. Every scene ambitiously employs a new setting, using different special effects, new technology and projections in addition to traditionally impressive sets and effective lighting. All of it is in the service of making the production visually engaging, and if you engage visually as well as emotionally, you engage with the singing and the music, which can otherwise appear routine and repetitive. In reality, although Deidamia marked his retirement from writing opera, it is far from routine. Petrou, controlling the stage as well as the orchestra in the pit, knows how the music serves every scene with drama, emotion, tenderness and concern; all the necessary human qualities in the work, even if it is not the composer's most inspired or celebrated piece.

The plot and libretto don't exactly mark any important event in the story of the Odyssey. Well, it is based around the need to have the war machine that is Achilles join the assembled Greek fleet on its way to Troy, but since it has been foretold that Achilles will die on Trojan soil, his father has hidden him on the island, dressed as a girl under the name Pyrrha. Essentially the whole opera then is an attempt by two Greek commanders Odysseus and Phönix (both also going under assumed names) to discover the whereabouts of the warrior and get him to join the siege on Troy. Evidently, since there are disguises and cross-dressing involved and since Achilles is not great about hiding his manly interests in hunting and killing, this involves a few mishaps and misunderstandings, none of which in themselves are particularly original or humorous.

But George Petrou's Wexford production nonetheless makes the most of every situation. The sensitive direction, not without a sense of humour in where the two worlds cross over and occasionally interact, helps bring this out. The spectacular and inventive effects that set and costume designer Giorgina Germanou realises suit every mood from stormy seas, thunderous downpours, a classical vase design that turns out to be a modern fashion dress, animated sequences, an undersea scene and even a cheesy - and quite impressive - movie trailer. There is no end of inventiveness, none of it employed arbitrarily. The intention is to avoid static scenes, keep movement going and match the rhythms and moods of Handel's score without distracting from the essence of the dramatic flow.

In fact it actually supports the premise well. While all the plot revolves around Ulysses/Antilochus falling in love with a man dressed as a woman, or pretending to, and the (real) women trying to simultaneously fight off the advances of men while at the same time trying to woo them away from uncovering Achilles' true identity, (and in the case of Nerea falling in love in the process), the serious side is not neglected. It's the modern day inserts that help us to see this. At the end of the romantic comedy drama there is a long and brutal war that will take place and Achilles knows he will die in it. The duty and the solemnity of that hits home in the final scenes, again with projections contrasting the movie trailer epic seen earlier with the harsh reality of war that we are very familiar with witnessing at the moment.

Deidamia has two main roles that can be played by females dressed as men: one a man (Antilochus), the other a man pretending to be a woman (Achilles as Pyrrha). It avoids some confusion and disorientation - but not much - if both roles are undertaken as they are here by male countertenors, and we had two fine countertenors here with Nicolò Balducci as Ulysses and Bruno de Sá as Achilles. Balducci in particular was a standout performer here, but de Sá played up the badly pretend-female role well in an energetic performance. Rather than it being a showcase for singers, Handel actually balances out the roles well for the requirements of the drama, giving just as much attention to Deidamia as her friend Nerea, sung well here by Sophie Junker and Sarah Gilford. Likewise it provided the opportunity for Rory Musgrave and Petros Magoulas to make significant contributions as as Phönix and Lycomede.

Still Deidamia is perhaps not a great Handel opera or the most thrillingly plotted, but it's a masterful one nonetheless and one that was definitely worthwhile reviving (among many potential Handel and opera seria candidates) for this year's Wexford Festival Opera's Myths & Legends theme. Like all baroque opera, there is always the danger of three hours of da capo arias being a bit of a chore if not handled sensitively and respectfully, but the key is also not to do it too reverentially. The balance here in this production conducted and directed by George Petrou is ideal, with the music providing dramatic drive and tone that the visual extravagance and performances matched impressively. Very impressively indeed.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, Wexford Festival Opera Streaming on RTE Lyric FM

Bizet - La tragédie de Carmen (Wexford, 2025)

Georges Bizet - La tragédie de Carmen

Wexford Festival Opera, 2025

Rebecca Warren, Nate Ben-Horin, Tom Deazley, Sarah Richmond, Dafydd Allen, Philip Kalmanovitch, Roisín Walsh, Conor Cooper, Vladimir Sima, Jonah Halton

Jerome Hynes Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 22nd October 2025

There comes a time surely when you don't feel the need to see another traditional Carmen. I know I reached that point a long time ago. There may also come a point also when you think that you don't need to see another attempt to rework and reinterpret Bizet's opera through a modern, feminist perspective of social commentary. Fortunately opera is a living art, and if a work is good enough there are always relevant truths and new meanings that can be explored. There ought to be a way to get back to the essence of the work, strip away all the accumulated mannerisms, old-fashioned values and imposed modern reinterpretations and just get back to the human heart of the work. Well, with Carmen there already is, and it's called La tragédie de Carmen. Proof of how effective this work can still be as an opera is made apparent in this production directed by Tom Deazley, further stripped down to its essentials as a 'Pocket opera' at Wexford Festival Opera.

La tragédie de Carmen is an unusual case. Many operas have been adapted and reworked for other media - a Broadway musical or a movie adaptation - and it's common for an opera to be drawn from an existing theatre piece, but not so common for an opera to be taken back to form a closer relationship with its source material. The history of Bizet's own experience with Carmen at the Opéra-Comique is complicated enough, but aside from going back to the original Prosper Mérimée novella, Peter Brooke and Jean-Claude Carrière's opera-theatrical reworking of the material has become a popular way of presenting a work that it has to be said has become over-familiar, to the extent that perhaps its original meaning has been obscured. If you want to assess the essence and worth of any drama, it's surely to be found in the validity of its human story. That is very much the focus of Tom Deazley’s production.

Of course individuals only behave within or in reaction to the rules society places on them, so it is important to ensure that the story has context. Carmen, by choosing to act outside the normal rules of behaviour in respectable society can be seen as proto-feminist, but how she does that in her promiscuity and criminality is hardly one that could be considered by many as much of a role model. But then with a few exceptions - and none of them men - neither are the behaviours of those who come into contact with the young woman. The saintly Michaela and Don José’s off stage mother, behaving more in line with patriarchal expectations, are hardly more realistic modern female role models.

Whether this tells us anything much about Carmen or whether it speaks of the society that imposes certain expectations of behaviour upon women and enforces the suppression of true feelings is something that can be swayed one way or the other depending on the intentions of the director. Brooke's La tragédie de Carmen allows for more scope for a director to explore such questions, but to see it purely in those terms can make the opera more of a commentary on society and risks missing the heart of Carmen, the one that is vividly described in Bizet's music: the joy of living and snatching each moment; living 'dangerously' as a 'oiseau rebelle'; the human story and indeed the tragedy of the human story.

Considering the limited options open to an independent and sexually liberated young woman from a minority (gypsy) background, Carmen's flirtations and loves can only end one way. In a typical traditional drama anyway. But that doesn't necessarily have to be the case, or at least it doesn't need to play out that way in a modern production. With a terrific central performance from the versatile and brilliant Sarah Richmond, Tom Deazley's direction manages to capture the wild sensuous swagger of Bizet, the dramatic tragedy of Mérimée, the character and social insights of Brooke, and brings another facet out of it all, which is indeed the human aspect of being caught up in it all.

As far as the traditional story of Bizet's opera goes, this version remains very familiar, but it's definitely noticeable that it is much more focussed. While you might expect more dialogue and performances in an adaptation from operatic to theatrical, instead even the original spoken dialogue parts of the original opera have been reduced to the absolute minimum and only to introduce a scene. Side stories and minor characters are largely removed, the role of Michaela significantly reduced but given tighter focus without losing her arias. More importantly, she comes across as a regular person, not the saintly figure that can often be presented as a counterpoint to Carmen.

Carmen’s problems can also be boiled down essentially not to her wild nature as much as her problems with men. There is no question she lives in a man’s world, but she refuses to bend to their desires, or in as much as she is able to. You don't have to look too far past regular current news reports to see that domestic violence against women and murders of young women still persists in society, so it's not as if the opera is taking either a traditionalist or a revisionist view. Again however, this 'issue' is acknowledged in the production without making it the focus and getting preachy about something that an opera is not going to change.

So much so that Deazley uses the idea of playing with fate as a means of showing where this is all going to lead. Carmen the gypsy deals out cards and is dealt with a hand herself she does not have the power to change. You can only gamble with fate so much before the tables turn on you. This is the tragedy of Carmen. There is a choice to be made in how that fate is depicted however, and the director admirably chooses not to serve up the violent ending that the traditional Carmen imposes, running the risk that it looks like she gets what she deserves for fooling around with the wrong men. The men in La tragédie de Carmen all pay a high price for their violent and abusive nature, including Carmen's jailbird husband appearing in this version as an additional character (and not surviving long!), so Carmen's only tragedy is that she gets mixed up with all these brutes. Deazley then leaves her fate open at the conclusion, certainly facing danger and death but not delivering the expected fatal blow. We all know how such situations are likely to end without having to see it enacted.

For a smaller scale production at the Jerome Hynes studio theatre in the National Opera House at Wexford, the production values are superb. Lisa Krügel provides an excellent all-purpose Blood Wedding style set with a classic Spanish adobe wall and an orange tree, without playing to kitsch depiction of an idealised postcard image of Spain. There is even room here to open that up to a village square with a bar. Subtle changes of lighting effectively set mood, scene and establish time as characters walk off and on again. The singing performances all contributed to the success of this interpretation. The versatile mezzo-soprano Sarah Richmond, familiar to those of us who have seen her in productions with the Belfast Ensemble and NI Opera as well as most recently in Jennifer Walshe's extraordinary MARS, gives exactly the strong charismatic performance that the opera needs while still retaining a degree of human vulnerability. Dafydd Allen's tenor had a steely menace, with excellent enunciation of the French libretto. It was a brave decision to perform this in French without surtitles and only a few words of English language dialogue, but familiarity with the story and very clear visual storytelling points put everything across. Roisín Walsh was an excellent Michaela and Philip Kalmanovitch played the role of the bullfighter Escamillo authoritatively.

Under the musical direction of Rebecca Warren and Nate Ben-Horin, with Warren playing a piano reduction of the score, the pacing seemed slower than you would expect for Carmen. Since the chouses have been removed and the opera has been stripped of its swagger in this version as La tragédie de Carmen, the more gentle touch of the piano reduction suited the refreshingly sensitive tone of the production. Carmen may need revisited now and again only rarely, but as long as there are sympathetic teams in place like this one at Wexford, it can still prove to be dramatically, musically and emotionally revealing.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera

Verdi - Le trouvère (Wexford, 2025)

Giuseppe Verdi - Le trouvère

Wexford Festival Opera, 2025

Marcus Bosch, Ben Barnes, Eduardo Niave, Lydia Grindatto, Giorgi Lomiseli, Kseniia Nikolaieva, Luca Gallo, Conor Prendiville, Jade Phoenix, Philip Kalmanovitch, Vladimir Sima, Conor Cooper

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 21st October 2025

No-one would consider Il trovatore a rarely performed opera, but the French version that Verdi reworked for the Paris Opera definitely qualifies for Wexford Festival Opera's focus on lost and scarcely known works. Being a lost and forgotten opera is no indication of lack of quality: there are many reasons why operas fall into neglect. It's a fate suffered even by many worthwhile Verdi operas and Verdi's French operas are always fascinating and all too rarely seen. That's definitely the case with Le trouvère, and Marcus Bosch's production for the festival managed to breathe a little bit of new life and meaning into a work that in its more popular Italian form has become quite stale.

In whichever version you present it however, Il trovatore is always going to be a problematic opera or at least a challenge. Aside from the overheated plot, the music has been overplayed over the years and there is a danger of it losing its impact through familiarity, or perhaps not losing its impact - since those famous arias and choruses still resound powerfully - but allowed to become too 'operatic' and detached from real human stories. Le trouvère, at the very least, provides an opportunity to hear the opera afresh, and indeed the Wexford production - for their 2025 Myths and Legends themed programme - managed to delve deeper beneath the surface storytelling and find some extra character in the work.

In comparison to some of the operas that Verdi rewrote or adapted for the Paris Opera, Le trouvère remains very much the familiar Il trovatore. With a few exceptions of course, not least the fact that the libretto was rewritten in French with suitable minor changes of music for the flow of the language, but perhaps the biggest revision or concession is of course the addition of a new 30-minute ballet sequence at the start of the third Act. In terms of musical character and plot melodrama however, Le trouvère is essentially the same as the Italian version. If you want to draw a distinction of differences between the two, there's not much new here to go on - unless you are Robert Wilson of course (but there was only one of those) - but the ballet sequence alone gives more scope to develop and establish a different character for the opera.

Director Ben Barnes rightly recognises that the medieval historical setting is hardly relevant to that, so much so that even though bringing it closer to our own time in this production to the period of the Spanish Civil War, it still has no significant impact or additional relevance, and in itself doesn't lend the opera any greater depth. Not that Le trouvère or Il trovatore needs it. It's a full-blooded melodrama, a Verdi blood and thunder melodrama, and all the impact is there in the dramatic writing, the tortured souls, the overwrought plot of hidden switched identities and fateful mistakes that take a shocking turn of events. Legends and stories should be on this kind of grand scale, but they can and should still retain the essence of humanity in them. It's there in Verdi, to some extent, and it helps if a director can find a way to bring that out.

The war context of each of the scenes is effectively staged, the images and impact of war on the people is evident, the Spanish setting well defined, but in terms of direction of the singers it was rather stiffly choreographed and all too often would fall back on opera mannerisms. A lot of this of course is 'in-built' in the opera, which amounts to a number of set pieces and star turns for the artists. Despite the strong passionate singing it was hard to feel any real human story in the fragmented structure, the stop-starting as the drama stopped to allow the singers to take their take their aria before entering back into the real (opera) world.

As good as the singing was, there was very little sense of any real interaction or drive to the love-hate drama between them. For individual performances of those classic roles however we had fine voices in Mexican tenor Eduardo Niave as Manrique and soprano Lydia Grindatto as Leonore. Giorgi Lomiseli sounded a little hesitant initially as Le Comte de Luna, but very much came into the as the drama unfolded. The most exciting performance came from Kseniia Nikolaieva's Azucena. It's a role of course designed to introduce that wildcard element of danger and unpredictability, seeking to find not so much vengeance as justice, and Nikolaieva made every one of her scenes count in raising the tensions. The rising star Irish soprano Jade Phoenix, who made a great impact in 2023 in Wexford in Marco Tutino's La ciociara, was underused as Inés but made an impression nonetheless.

There didn't appear to be much that was going to distinguish this Le trouvère from the many other productions of Il trovatore seen through the ages, but it was at the start of the third act when the inserted ballet music written by Verdi came into play and made a little more sense of it. Presenting it as a dream/nightmare of the Count, there was nothing particularly revelatory in the use of the generic Spanish Civil War footage mostly of troops marching and people on the streets, but with three dancers and some shadow play it effectively blended the human love story with the imagery of the wider war. What it captured was the weight of history, of long feuds between nations and mistrustful neighbours. It reminded you that Il trovatore or Le trouvère is not as excessive as you might think in its horror story or in the passions it evokes. Worse things happen in wartime, as the news reminds us every day now.

There are a number of Ukrainian refugees in Ireland at the moment (and scandalously on the very night I attended this performance, a mob of thugs was attacking a hotel of asylum seekers in Dublin) and many are finding success in Ireland as in the rest of Europe on the opera stage. That was the case with this opera's Azucena, Kseniia Nikolaieva, and I would imagine her own experiences and emotions would have fed into her performance. It showed. And if the production as a whole succeeded in relating those heightened Verdi rhythms, pacing and emotional overload of the brutality and suffering of war for the audience, imagine how much more it meant to the Ukrainian contingent. Without having to make any grand gestures - in an opera that usually calls out for grand gestures - Wexford's production of Le trouvère paid tribute in its own way by doing justice to those caught up in the horror of war.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, Wexford Festival Opera Streaming on RTE Lyric FM

Donizetti - Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali (Wexford, 2024)

Gaetano Donizetti - Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali

Wexford Festival Opera, 2024

Danila Grassi, Orpha Phelan, Sharleen Joynt, Paolo Bordogna, Giuseppe Toia, Matteo Loi, Paola Leoci, Alberto Robert, William Kyle, Hannah Bennett, Philip Kalmanovitch, Henry Grant Kerswell

RTE Player - 25th October 2024

I may have been a little bit harsh in my earlier review of Charles Villiers Stanford's The Critic - well, the clue is in the name of the opera - and about comic opera in general, but by way of defense against accusations of not having a sense of humour, I give you Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali by Donizetti, also performed as part of the Wexford Festival Opera's 2024 Theatre within Theatre themed programme. Now this is how a comic opera ought to be, hilariously satirical with a foot in the real world, sympathetically presented with original touches that keep it fresh, contemporary and hugely funny.

Such is the mastery of Donizetti's opera that it works as well today as it would have done 200 years ago. Written in 1831, it hasn't aged a day and retains its capacity to entertain and remain open to new ideas and interpretations. That applies to its sense of humour and its only slightly exaggerated satire of the stage, its theatrical conventions and characters, but also for its qualities as a fine opera. Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali ("The conventions and inconveniences of the stage") not only plays up to the absurdities of those conventions, it exploits them for good opera, as in the first scene with the Prima Donna soprano exhibits her range impressively in a rehearsal of one of her arias.

The original setting here might be a provincial theatre putting on a new musical setting of an opera seria, Romolo ed Ersilia, but the pressures and tensions are recognisable in many artistic contexts, not just operatic. Here the viewer is given backstage access to the rehearsals, where things aren't going well. There are a lot of elements that need to work together when putting on any opera, and with the impresario working under considerable budgetary constraints, not only are the timescales for the rehearsals tight, but the schedules for costume design, set building, lighting and choreography all have to come into alignment. Since the singers can't even manage to get along with each other or with the roles they have been given, demanding that the composer makes last minutes changes and rewrite whole new numbers for them, it's going to be a challenge, to say the least, to bring all the other elements together for opening night. Such are the conventions and inconveniences of the stage.

Among the many strands of humour and show-off ability on offer from the supposedly starring tenor and soprano roles, the principal entertainment here comes from Mamma Agata, the pushy mother who demands more of an eye-catching role for her daughter Luigia who she is determined is going to be a big star. She's not only contemptuous of the conventions by demanding a larger singing role for daughter, but she is quite content to undermine and cut the roles of the star tenor and soprano. The diva isn't going to be upstaged by a mere 'Seconda Donna' but Mamma Agata's ambitions don't even end there. When her actions start causing walk-outs, she ends up offering to take on a role herself, only managing to stir up more division. The poor music director hasn't a chance, as Mamma Agata takes over the choreography in the Second Act as well, and ends up running/ruining the whole show.

It's a gift of a role, involving a baritone dressing up travesti and acting outrageously as a domineering stage mother. You can't go wrong with Mamma Agata, but you can always find ways to make it better, and the best way is to play it straight, which is what bass-baritone Paolo Bordogna does. No exaggeration is required ...well, none more than is necessary. It's all written into the part; the mamma should steal the show and indeed does here. You couldn't fault any element of his performance, bringing complete conviction to the role with fine comic acting and dreadfully good singing. He has the impresario eating out of his daughter's hand and the audience too hanging on every gesture. But the opera has a lot more to offer in terms of humorous situations and great performances that include Sharleen Joynt sparkling and sprinkling venom as the diva Daria Garbinati.

Although there is room within the recitative passages for a director to introduce additional elements and modern references for a modern audience, the creative director can find many other ways to work within the opera's framework. Orpha Phelan is a director who is very capable of that, her previous work for Wexford Lalla-Roukh demonstrating that ability (even if her La Bohème for Irish National Opera was a little more respectful and traditional). One of the amusing features she introduces is the tenor turning up for the wrong performance believing that he is actually rehearsing for a performance of The Sound of Music and wondering where all the Nazis and nuns are. He certainly finds the 'Mother Superior' intimidating when he is paired up with Mamma Agata for a duet. Hilarity, inevitably and calculatedly, ensues.

Produced in many different forms, often to include local and contemporary reference, Le convenienze is also open to additions and changes, the whole chaotic nature of the backstage rehearsals indeed encouraging extrapolation and reinterpretation. Wexford’s production keeps the original Italian provincial location but in a generic modern setting that doesn't indulge in current day trends - there are no mobile phones, social media comments or Taylor Swift references (not that I would have noticed). Instead they delve into the historical origins and references of the work, with the traditional insertion of arias from other works (much like Buxton's version, Viva la Diva developed a whole prologue of auditions for the roles), but seeking here to make them historically relevant to the work. The dance scene at the beginning of Act II for example is taken from the overture to Myslivecek’s 1773 setting of Romolo ed Ersilia. These are good choices, all of them contributing to the tone and humour of the work.

What is great about Le convenienze and where for example Stanford’s The Critic failed to convince - for me personally, although everyone else seemed to love it - is that Donizetti paints a scene that is quite believable. You don't have to be involved with the theatre or opera to know that rivalry, backstabbing and positioning go on and that there are massive egos and artistic sensitivities involved. It's well known even from movie star behaviour and there are plenty of divas in the modern music industry as well. You could easily map some of the situations here directly onto many contemporary figures without losing any of the detail and the explosiveness of the bad behaviours, but this production lets you do that yourself without any heavy-handed references.

Donizetti is one of the mainstays of the Wexford Festival Opera, who over the last 70 years have been ahead of the game in bringing many of the composer's forgotten and lost operas back to the stage, their efforts instrumental in consolidating his reputation as being worthy of recognition for more than just Lucia di Lammermoor. Considering it's a real crowd pleaser, a genuinely funny satire and a delightfully composed work that is unquestionably the highlight of this year's festival, it's surprising that Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali isn't more widely performed and enjoyed. In a festival that this year seemed to have too much levity for some critics (I hold my hand up to that), Wexford Festival Opera showed why it remains a good idea to keep Donizetti in the frame when it comes to quality rare opera.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, RTE Streaming on YouTube

Stanford - The Critic (Wexford, 2024)

Charles Villiers Stanford - The Critic

Wexford Festival Opera, 2024

Ciarán McAuley, Conor Hanratty, Rory Dunne, Ben McAteer, Ava Dodd, Gyula Nagy, Dane Suarez, Oliver Johnston, Meilir Jones, Andrew Henley, Hannah O'Brien, Carolyn Holt, Mark Lambert, Tony Brennan, Jonathan White, Arthur Riordan, Olga Conway

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 24th October 2024

Opera is usually considered a serious business and comic works are often neglected, confined usually to operetta in the opera houses and mostly to Offenbach and Johann Strauss's Die Fledermaus. The greatest composers - I'm thinking of Mozart principally - manage to incorporate comedy as part of the wider richness of human experience. Works of pure comedy are relatively rare and perhaps don't stand the test of time: what is considered funny 100 or more years ago might not tickle the same way now. Such rare works are not neglected at Wexford, this year's festival theme almost inviting nothing but comedy, which indeed that turned out to be the case (unfortunately, from my perspective) to the exclusion of anything a little more substantial. When you have a pedigree like Charles Villiers Stanford working with a comedy written by Richard Brinsley Sheridan however, The Critic must be a promising prospect. Unfortunately, the 'Theatre within Theatre' idea that is the theme of this year's festival operas tends to neglect any meaningful commentary, and in the case of The Critic not much humour either other than in the broadest sense of laughing at bad opera.

Can you make a good opera out of bad opera? Well, Ariadne auf Naxos had already proven that point by the time Stanford came to compose The Critic, his penultimate opera, in 1916. Sheridan’s 1779 play pokes fun at critics, at the vanity puffery of writers, and the efforts of theatre producers to please everyone. In The Critic, Mr. Puff - the author and Mr. Dangle - the composer/impresario, have invited Mr. Sneer - the critic, to attend the rehearsal of a love story drama set around the invasion of the Spanish Armada. There is undoubtedly much here that could still be seen as relevant in its satire of theatrical conventions, but also a lot that isn't.

Essentially then The Critic operates as the rehearsal of a very bad opera with a ludicrous libretto and stagey acting, with occasional interruptions by the authors pointing out the cleverness of the drama, explaining some of the odder passages that seem to make no sense and appear to have no relevance to the main thrust of the rather disjointed drama. The first act of 'The Spanish Armada' involves a lot of posturing from Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Christopher Hatton at Tilbury fort about the approach of the Spanish Armada, followed by a lament from the heroine Tilburina about her forbidden love for the captured Spanish officer Don Ferolo Whiskerandos, where she is constantly forced to repeat and improve her movements. Act II shifts to what appears to be a scene from an entirely different opera, an obligatory fight scene that goes through a number of retakes before one of the protagonists walks off leaving the other to shadow fight, and the opera ends with an incongruous masque to celebrate Queen Elizabeth's victory over the Spanish Armada. 

The Critic definitely fulfills the remit of a play within a play, but unfortunately there is little real meaningful connection between the presumed opera and the framing device other than interruptions from Puff and Dangle insisting on the final moments of silly arias and pompous choruses being delivered in an even more ridiculous way. Since the framing device is entirely spoken by actors, that means that the fake opera 'The Spanish Armada' is what actually constitutes the opera The Critic proper. Which means for almost the entire opera, we - the contemporary audience - are treated to what is simply a dreadful opera of ham acting, constant interruptions and exaggerated flourishes delivering a portentous libretto and improbable nonsensical plot.

The names are at least amusing and I have to say I did laugh at the scene where Lord Burleigh silently and solemnly ponders some obscure dilemma before eventually grunting thoughtfully and walking off the stage. Perhaps that's because you could enjoy the actual music, which is of course ravishing, but how much of it is meant to be pastiche and parody? All of it? How do you judge whether it is good music to bad opera or pastiche bad music to match and highlight the absurdities of the plot and libretto? Can we take it seriously when it only emphasises the silliness of the plot? We are perhaps meant to recognise the styles being parodied? None of them are obvious, so any attempts to be clever there also failed.

I'm not sure the period setting, Conor Hanratty's direction or the production design really helps. The stage within the stage set and the costumes are marvellous, the opera looking absolutely gorgeous. Some 'cheap' props and effects are thrown in for additional amusement, but it's all very obvious. Although the intent is that the performers are taking it all very seriously, it's not really funny if it's played as broadly as this. There is nothing to let the audience find their own amusement or any clever device that might hint at a relevant satire they can recognise. I'm thinking for example of the Buxton Festival's 2022 production of Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali (as Viva la Diva), an opera that is also part of the programme in Wexford this year (an obvious choice considering the theme), which satirised all manner of modern production excesses, as well as modern theatrical practice. (I await the Wexford production to see how they fare, but they have a lot to live up to).

Putting the deficiencies about my sense of humour and expectations aside, there can be no dispute about the quality of the orchestra playing under the musical direction of Ciarán McAuley or the singing performances here. The singing was definitely good, or at least good at being bad - I'm not sure how you would evaluate it on that basis. A challenge for the critic indeed. No, the singing was of a high standard, but there was nothing too challenging here, not even the traditional 'mad scene'. The libretto was atrocious, intentionally so, the plot nonsensical, but everyone has different tastes, so if you find that amusing - and the gentleman in the box beside me in the O'Reilly Theatre chuckled away throughout - then The Critic is a definite hit. Just not with this critic*. (But judge for yourself). Certainly we can all do with a little bit of lightness considering the state of the world at the moment, but this was a disappointing year at Wexford Festival Opera for lovers of 'serious' opera. Next year's programme of rare Verdi (Le trouvère), Handel (Deidamia) and Delius (The Magic Fountain) however promises to be very serious indeed!

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, RTE Streaming on YouTube

The critics about The Critic

★★★★★ “Outstanding … doesn’t miss a trick.” - The Irish Times ★★★★★ “Hilarious … a Wexford Festival Opera knockout.” - Bachtrack ★★★★★ “Impeccable.” - The Stage ★★★★ “A superb Ava Dodd … an equally terrific Dane Suarez.” - The Arts Review ★★★★ “Ciarán McAuley’s superb conducting” - The Arts Review ★★★★ “Conor Hanratty’s masterful direction” - The Arts Review *Somehow I can't see my review being added to the above

★★ 'A very bad opera with a ludicrous libretto and stagey acting' - OperaJournal